The Dreamers

"The Dreamers" is an important film, if for no
other reason than it finally offers a mature
alternative for adult cinemagoers. The drama,
set against the backdrop of student riots in
1968 Paris, has generated barrels of ink for its
frank portrayal of sexuality and
nudity--garnering it a rare NC-17 rating--and
director Bernardo Bertolucci's aggressive
public campaign for its uncensored release
stateside. Promisingly, Fox Searchlight
ultimately agreed, and the picture is better for
it.

Too often, sex scenes in the movies are
so self-consciously avoidant of nudity that it
becomes distracting--one begins to wonder
instead where one might find an L-shaped
sheet like the one featured on-screen,
covering her from the shoulders down but him
from the waist down. But here, after viewers
gets over the shock--yes, in these Puritan
times, the shock--of the full-frontal nudity, both
male and female, they can relax into the film
because what is unfolding feels considerably
more natural. (Although it must be noted that
there is at least one moment that ups the ew
factor even on Marlon Brando's penchant for
dairy spread in Bertolucci's "Last Tango in
Paris," to which, because of its like setting and
content, "Dreamers"--marking the helmer's
first return to Paris since "Tango"--will likely be
much compared.)

But, unfortunately, here
the sex is siphoning attention away from "The
Dreamers'" most interesting aspect, which is
its eloquent elegy to movie lovers--specifically
to the young French cinephiles who, upon the
dismissal of Cinematheque Francaise
director Henri Langlois, stage impassioned
protests in the streets of Paris. Among them is
American Matthew (Michael Pitt, who,
post-"Dawson," continues to choose
interesting work such as "Hedwig and the
Angry Inch"), in the City of Light for a year
studying French. Amidst the chaos, he meets
twins Isabelle (newcomer Eva Green) and
Theo (Louis Garrel) who, after knowing him for
just a few hours, invite him to evacuate his
dumpy hotel room for the spare bedroom in
their apartment when their liberal-intellectual
parents conveniently depart on a month-long
vacation.

At first slightly put off by the
discomfiting physical closeness of Isabelle
and Theo, Matthew soon becomes intricately
embroiled in their relationship--and the
cinema-inspired mind games they play. One
will act out a scene from a film--kind of like
playing charades. If the other can't guess, he
or she must perform an act at the other's
request.

Some of these moments are
inspired, as when Isabelle can-cans with a
mop, her dance intercut with footage from the
film she's emulating, in this case "Blonde
Venus," starring Marlene Dietrich. Or Theo
reenacts a death scene on a shadow of a
cross--"Scarface," 1932. Likewise, it's
positively dreamy when Isabelle reenacts a
scene from "Queen Christina," starring Greta
Garbo, that's spliced in with her homage, and
fairly engages in a back-and-forth exchange
with Jean Seberg in "Breathless." (Music--Jimi
Hendrix, Janis Joplin, the Doors, to name a
few--also plays a central atmospheric role.)
But this isn't an innocent game of truth or dare:
The consequences of drawing a blank are
much more sexually explicit and humiliating
than five minutes in the closet.

The
dynamic is a potentially fascinating one,
especially as Matthew emerges from his
wide-eyed American innocence to no longer
revere his European counterparts' experience,
challenging them to not only act on the
political views they so strenuously argue from
their cloistered apartment above the violent
streets where the battle is being waged but to
escape the codependence that will preclude
any chance at real, adult relationships. But it
all ends oddly, as the political debates that
initially seemed to serve merely to set the
scene suddenly and inexplicably become
central to the fate of this menage a trois.

It's ironic that a film so in love with, well,
film has a distinctly theatrical feel. True, the
incorporation of classic movie clips
demonstrates ingenious editing by Jacopo
Quadri, and Bertolucci and cinematographer
Fabio Cianchetti's camerawork is lyrically
cinematic, tracking fluidly behind the
characters as they stroll through the streets of
Paris or the labyrinthine halls of the
apartment. But, given that it's character-centric,
dependent on dialogue and mostly set in the
flat--not to mention that the climactic riot looks
like how a Broadway musical (think "Les
Miserables") might depict a political
uprising--"The Dreamers" could just as easily
been mounted as a stage production.
Starring Michael Pitt,
Eva Green and Louis
Garrel. Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci.
Written by Gilbert Adair. Produced by Jeremy
Thomas. A Fox Searchlight release. Drama.
Rated NC-17 for explicit sexual content.
Running time: 116 min